Читать книгу Among the River Pirates - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 4

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Skippy watched as the green, shining launch swept alongside and stopped. He was instantly reassured, however, when its occupants smiled genially at him and then at his father.

“Well, if it ain’t Toby Dare himself,” said one of the men, heartily. “Buy her lately, Dare?”

“Jes’ yesterday, Inspector Jones,” said Skippy’s father, proudly. “An’ I ain’t a-goin’ ter put nothin’ on her but what I’ll be glad ter show ter anybody what asks.”

Inspector Jones’ bland face became serious.

“Big Joe Tully said the same thing when he bought his scow, Dare,” he said. “I wouldn’t make promises too soon.”

Toby Dare’s eyes turned fondly on his son.

“Big Joe Tully ain’t got no boy like my Skippy ter fetch up,” he said with firm resolve.

“Good for you, Dare,” the inspector smiled. “Skippy’s worth keeping out of trouble for. But see that you keep him in mind when you’re tempted. Most o’ you birds that start a new leaf stub your toes.”

“Not me,” said Toby vehemently. “I ain’t carin’ ter make no quick fortune. A couple grand a year’ll start Skippy an’ git him educated. That’s all I’m carin’ about, Inspector. Me, I don’t need nothin’.”

Inspector Jones beamed upon the smiling Skippy, then casually glanced toward the barge.

“Minnie M. Baxter, eh?” he mused.

“Yere,” said Toby exultantly. “That was my wife’s name when she was a girl. She died when Skippy was born. I thought mebbe the name’d bring me luck.”

The inspector nodded sympathetically.

“Got any contracts lined up?” he asked.

“Two,” said Toby proudly. “An’ it ain’t bad fer a start. I’m ter haul garbage an’ ashes from the island.”

“Good for you, Dare. Well, we’ll look her over and pass on her, then let you beat it.”

Toby Dare looked exultantly at his son as the trim green launch chugged off to circle the barge. It was a look of triumph and of high hopes for the future.

“All we need’s his O.K., Skippy,” he said in soft tones. “It’s somethin’ ter be able ter face guys like the inspector, specially when I been dodgin’ him so long.”

“Then he knows you usta——” Skippy’s tongue seemed not to be able to say the word.

“Sure,” said Toby, a little abashed. “There ain’t many reg’lars in this harbor that the inspector ain’t got spotted some time or other. But I should worry now.”

Skippy nodded happily and a silence ensued between them. They listened together and watched while the harbor launch paused midway of the Minnie M. Baxter and Inspector Jones and his two subordinates held an inaudible conference. Then for a time they made soundings after which the inspector boarded the barge and spent another five minutes inspecting it fore and aft.

“There’s more ter this here inspectin’ business than what a guy thinks,” said Toby simply. “All I know uv boats is this here kicker. I never did more’n load an’ unload aboard Ol’ Flint’s scows.”

“The inspector’s gettin’ back in the launch,” said Skippy eagerly. “Now they’ll come back an’ say it’s all right an’ then we can go, huh?”

Toby Dare nodded and smilingly waited as the launch chugged back alongside of his kicker.

“What yer think uv my ol’ battle-axe, hey, Inspector?” he asked, chuckling.

“Battle-axe is a good word for her, Dare,” said the inspector solemnly. “Nothing describes her better.”

Toby Dare’s generous mouth seemed to tighten at the corners.

“What yer mean, Inspector?”

“How much did you pay for her?”

“Three hunderd—why?” Toby’s lips trembled a little and he searched the inspector’s face anxiously.

“Who’d you buy her from?” the inspector persisted.

“Ol’ Flint! Josiah Flint,” Toby answered suspiciously. “Why?”

“I thought it must be somebody like him. I hate to spring it on you, Dare, but you’ve paid three hundred dollars too much. She’s not worth a dime.”

Toby Dare cleared his throat and a strange look came into his kindly gray eyes.

“Inspector ——, yer mean this here barge ain’t....” he began.

“She’s not seaworthy,” the inspector interposed as kindly as he could. “It’s not safe to keep her afloat, Dare. Flint gypped you. You should have had somebody look her over before you bought her—somebody that knew an up-and-coming barge from driftwood. That’s all you got on your hands, I’m sorry to say—driftwood. Her keel’s as rotten as a keel can possibly be.”

Toby Dare’s tanned, weather-beaten face went suddenly white and he made a funny little clicking noise with his tongue.

“The keel,” he muttered hoarsely, “can’t I have ’er fixed, Inspector—can’t I?”

Inspector Jones shook his head.

“It’d take more money than what you paid for the old hulk, Dare; more money than you’ve got, I guess.”

“I ain’t got a cent, Inspector, that’s the truth,” Toby said, choking on his words. “Every cent I had I paid Ol’ Flint an’—an’....”

Inspector Jones leaned toward the miserable man.

“Don’t take on so, Dare. Maybe the thing’s not as hopeless as it seems. If Josiah Flint’s got a spark of human feeling he’ll make good. Perhaps he didn’t realize what shape the barge was in when he sold her. He owns so many....”

“That’s jest it, Inspector,” said Toby, clenching his calloused hands. “Ol’ Flint ain’t got human feelin’. I worked fer him an’ I know. An’ fer a big ship-owner like him, he knows every craft he owns like a book. Now that I think uv it, I know he knew what he was sellin’ me! He knew I was dumb about them things an’ he took advantage uv it.” Dare looked down the harbor, glowing in the sunset, and his jaw was set determinedly. “He smiled, Ol’ Flint did, when I forked over my jack. He knew all the time!”

Skippy’s eyes were misty and he looked appealingly at Inspector Jones.

“Does that mean Pop can’t use the Minnie M. Baxter?” he faltered.

The inspector averted his face from the boy’s pleading eyes.

“If you think you can’t appeal to Flint personally, Dare,” said he, “sue him. A lawyer’ll make him kick in.”

“Not from Ol’ Flint,” said Toby Dare hoarsely and looking straight across the river. “He’s too rich ter be sued. But there’s one way uv fixin’ him—one way!”

Inspector Jones motioned his men to start their craft on its way.

“Cheer up,” he said, glancing quickly from father to son. “You’ll get a break yet. The safest way to get after Flint, Toby, is to sue him. You’d certainly not get anywhere with him the way you feel now. Meanwhile, the safest place for the scow is up at the Basin. She’s just not safe even to be towed around the harbor.”

Skippy watched the long line of foam that the launch left in its wake. For a long time his misty eyes were fastened on the glistening bubbles dancing atop the water until he could no longer stand his father’s silence.

“Pop, Pop,” he stammered, “can’t we go—go somewhere now?”

“Sure—sure,” said Toby brokenly. “We’re goin’ somewheres a’right. We’re goin’ ter the Basin where Jones told us to go with the Minnie M. Baxter.” He laughed sardonically. “We’re goin’ ter put the ol’ battle-axe in dry-dock forever!”

“What’s that mean, Pop?” Skippy asked pathetically. “It sounds like you mean something terrible will happen to the Minnie M. Baxter.”

“It is terrible ter me—an’ ter you, Skippy boy,” mumbled Toby. “It means that the pore scow’s so rotten she ain’t fit fer nothin’ but ter be put high an’ dry in Brown’s Basin along with half a hunderd other rotten scows. It’s way in the inlet an’ folks live in them scows like I guess you an’ me’ll have ter till I kin think what next.”

“Then all those other barges like ours can never sail the harbor again, huh?” Skippy asked sadly. “They just sorta stay there till they rot an’ fall apart, is that it? Like as if they’re condemned.”

“That’s the word, Skippy,” said Toby Dare bitterly. “The Minnie M. Baxter’s been condemned an’ you an’ me are condemned along with her.”